These Precious Gifts
by Take
Summary: [shounen ai parts: KH] Three types of love: of friends, family, and beloved.


Standard disclaimers, I forgot who the poem 'Gifts' was by, gomen.  
  
Yaoi at parts: K/H  
  
**These Precious Gifts**  
  
Take (Nov. '99 - Feb. '00)

_**I gave my first love laughter**_   
  
"Kurama you bastard, give it back!"  
  
Kurama glanced over his shoulder, his hair a long silver sheet snapping behind him. He grinned, showing off sharp fangs as he sped up. The youko held up a black object teasingly. "Come and get it Bats," he challenged. His tail flicked arrogantly, catching the moonlight.  
  
With an irritated snarl, Kuronue put on a burst of speed, grasping at his hat. A low growl of frustration escaped as Kurama tugged it just out of his reach. "Chikusho!" He shook his head irritably, trying to keep his ebony bangs out of his eyes. "Kurama!"  
  
The silver kitsune smirked, knowing it would annoy his friend. Honestly, Kuro was damn fun to tease, especially when the right buttons were pushed. And rule number one was: DON'T touch the hat. Kurama couldn't see why Kuronue liked the ratty old thing; he would have preferred the chimera left his hair down, but Kuro was sensitive about it for some odd reason. Black as sin and finer than silk, the chimera's hair was beautiful; it was nothing to be ashamed of.  
  
Kuronue caught Kurama's smirk. "Kurama," he warned, cobalt eyes flashing a brilliant blue.  
  
Kurama's smirk widened as he took in his best friend's scowl. There was a grove coming up that had some thick underbrush; if he could get to them he could take to the trees. The youko ran faster, looking back at his pursuer as he leapt over the low bushes. "Ku-" he turned his head to look down "- sooo!" There was a distant splash as he disappeared from view.  
  
"Kurama!" His heart thudding in his chest, Kuronue raced to the edge of the cliff and peered down into the dark forest below. "Daijoubu?" he called.  
  
A string of curses filled the air in response to his anxious query. Kuronue winced at one anatomically impossible suggestion as he glided down to settle beside the pond the youko had landed in. A startled snicker made it past his lips before he could stifle it.  
  
"Nanda," Kurama growled, glaring at the darker youkai. The golden glower's effectiveness was somewhat ruined by the scraggly silver bangs obscuring it. A lily pad drooped over a furry ear, giving the waterlogged youko a forlorn, bedraggled appearance. It was a far cry from the coolly elegant kitsune Kuronue was - usually - partnered with.  
  
Kurama attempted to blow his bangs out of his eyes but to no avail; the dripping locks were too heavy and refused to budge from where they were plastered against his forehead. All in all, the youko was a sorry sight.  
  
It was too much. Kuronue began to laugh helplessly, unable to stop even when the gold stare bore holes into his skull.  
  
"Is something funny Kuro?" Kurama asked dangerously.  
  
"D-drowned rat," Kuronue gasped, his eyes tearing. He sagged against a nearby tree, clutching his sides in mirth. He lifted a shaky finger to point at the limp lily pad on Kurama's head and snickered. "Heh heh heh..." he chuckled.  
  
With great dignity, Kurama wiped his face then ran a hand through his bangs. It caused his damp hair to stick up in strange tufts, provoking more laughter from the black chimera.  
  
"Aha ha ha - hey!" Kuronue yelped as branches suddenly descended from above to shove him into the icy pond. He came up coughing and spluttering. A very sodden chimera swiped thick black bangs out of his eyes, glaring daggers at the silver youko. A youko who was sitting in the middle of a pond with a lily pad hanging off one ear and cloaked in all the stiff dignity a centuries old kitsune could muster. Nevermind the fact that there was a Makai frog gazing longingly at the lily pad on top of said furry ear, now sadly out of it's reach. The scene struck the dark chimera as hilarious, and he once again burst into unrestrained giggles.  
  
Kurama glowered witheringly at his insanely cackling partner, but Kuronue's laughter was infectious. Against his will Kurama felt his lips twitch in answer, his own mirth starting in his chest. Kuronue looked just as ridiculous as he undoubtedly did; long black hair dripped sloppily over the chimera's features, giving him a pathetic wet-dog look.  
  
The silver youko finally gave in to his laughter as a fish, disturbed by Kuronue's noise, squirted the chimera with a faceful of water. He snickered as his partner sneezed, stunned.  
  
Kuronue gave him a sheepish grin and chuckled, splashing at Kurama playfully. His grin widened was the youko returned it with one of his own. The chimera was delighted as his partner's smooth tenor washed over him in waves of warm happiness, something rare and precious in their violent lives.  
  
Kurama let himself laugh freely, relishing the moment with his best friend. He threw Kuronue's sodden hat at the chimera's face, breaking into another fit of giggles as it scored with a wet 'plop'. It felt wonderful to laugh; it was a release of something he'd held inside himself for so long. "Two can play at that game Kuro," he mock-growled and proceeded to give his friend the dunking of his life. "I'll teach you to laugh at me..."  
  
The sound of laughter without malice rose in the air as the two most feared thieves in the Makai tossed dignity and reputations to the wind and concentrated on enjoying one of the simpler things in life.

_**I gave my second tears**_   
  
"My only wish...is to save my mother." His earlier words replayed themselves in his mind as Kurama raced to the hospital roof. Shiori had taken a sudden turn for the worse, and her time was quickly running out. The redhead's fists clenched in grim promise. Hold on kaasan, hold on...  
  
The moon gleamed brightly in the sky as Kurama burst onto the roof, his hand taking the Mirror of Utter Dark out of his pocket. A pale shaft of light hit the Mirror's smooth surface as the youko moved to kneel before the artifact. Kurama could hear the Reikai Tantei, Urameshi Yuusuke, shouting something at him as he accepted the Mirror's dreadful price. His emerald eyes held a mixture of sadness and joy, but Kurama's expression was serene as the Mirror sealed the bargain.  
  
Pain lanced up Kurama's arm as tendrils of light snaked around his body, leeching his life out through the hand pressed against the Mirror. He hissed, flinching but grimly keeping his hand to the cursed artifact. The world began to go gray as more of his life force was drained. Suddenly there was movement beside him, the pain lessening.  
  
"W-what are you doing?!" Kurama gasped, staring at Yuusuke in shock. Yuusuke ignored his incredulous demand, instead addressing the Mirror directly. The youko's mouth dropped open as the full import of the other boy's demand dawned on him. "Are you crazy?!" he yelled, then immediately felt himself humbled by the Tantei's reply. The world disappeared in a flash of light.  
  
Kurama groaned, his eyes slowly opening; awareness returned with a gasp and the youko pushed himself to his feet. "I'm...alive," he murmured, his eyes reflecting his surprise. "Then - kaasan?!" He forced his aching body into motion; he had to know - surely his mother was alive. Surely.  
  
Kurama stumbled to a halt by his mother's bedside, barely hearing the doctor's amazed exclamations over Shiori's miraculous recovery. There was only one thing he had eyes for at the moment; the pale, beautiful woman who lay on the hospital bed before him. The woman who had birthed him, raised him, protected him...bled for him. The same woman who was now weakly calling his name even as she reached out to him.  
  
"Shuuichi..." A trembling hand slipped from under the covers, the silvery sheen of scars a poignant symbol of a mother's love for her son. "Shuuichi...?" A tired voice spoke the youko's human name, somehow managing to encompass all of who and what Kurama was that really mattered in the end. A beloved son.  
  
Shaken to his core, Kurama gently grasped his mother's hand as a single tear slipped down his cheek.  
  
_I'm here, kaasan. I won't leave you._

**_I gave my third love silence  
Through all the years._   
**  
Kurama sat back against the arena's platform, wincing and shifting slightly to ease the discomfort of rubble digging into his hip. He picked idly at the dressings on his wounds, noting with satisfaction that his increased youki was speeding the healing process. Content that he would soon be able to walk without assistance, the redhead glanced over at the pale figure lying next to him.  
  
Hiei's features had relaxed as the fire demon slept off the sheer exhaustion that came with using the Kokuryuuha. Without his customary stone mask, his friend looked heartbreakingly young and innocent. Kurama let his eyes wander down the length of Hiei's body, suppressing the urge to follow the path with his hands. Hiei might look innocent from the neck up, but the rest of him...Kurama averted his eyes, clenching his hands in his lap. The rest of him definitely did not fit the young and innocent description.  
  
A shadow fell over the redhead; Kurama looked up into Yuusuke's face, their eyes meeting. Sympathetic understanding shone out of the younger boy's warm brown gaze and Kurama acknowledged it with a slight nod before lowering his eyes. He hadn't expected Yuusuke to understand, but he should have. The boy was a closet romantic at heart.  
  
"Are you going to tell him?"  
  
Kurama jerked his head up in surprise. "Iie. Could you imagine his reaction if I did?" A note of wry self-mockery entered the youko's voice. "He'd probably run away screaming if he ever found out." Kurama shook his head, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. "Anyway, he doesn't need the distraction of my feelings."  
  
Yuusuke knelt beside the kitsune, putting an arm on his shoulder. "But what about you? At least you won't regret not telling him."  
  
Kurama smiled slightly, giving a small shake of his head. "I'd regret it more if I lost him because of that," he said. "And he'd never return my feelings. He's made it quite clear that he considers love to be a foolish weakness." Kurama's eyes were sad. "Knowing the kind of life he leads, I can't blame him for feeling that way."  
  
"Demo..."  
  
"Ii yo, Yuusuke," Kurama said firmly. "I won't let myself be the reason Hiei falters in a fight."  
  
Yuusuke looked searchingly at the youko for several moments. "Okay," he acquiesced, nodding unhappily. He rose to his feet. "I still think you should tell him - you might be surprised at his answer. But if this is what you want..."  
  
Kurama bowed his head slightly. "Hai. Arigatou Yuusuke." The other boy flashed him a grin as he went to join Kuwabara, his cocky mask slipping into place once more.  
  
Kurama watched Yuusuke go, a bemused little smile quirking his lips. That should teach him not to make hasty assumptions about the other boy. He slid his gaze over to Hiei his smile fading; Yuusuke's words replayed themselves in his head. Kurama sighed, banishing them from his thoughts. Wishful thinking, all of it.  
  
A sudden wrench of fear stabbed through the kitsune as he watched his slumbering teammate. Hiei was pale and still beside him, his chest barely rising with the fire demon's breathing. He looked...dead.  
  
Swallowing against the cold knot of terror curling in his stomach, Kurama gave into his emotions and placed his hand over the fire demon's heart. The steady beating under his palm made him give a mental sigh of sheepish relief.  
  
Reassured, Kurama grabbed his book with his free hand. He kept his other on Hiei's chest.  
  
_Hiei you idiot, don't you die on me._

_  
__**My first love gave me singing**_   
  
Kurama entered the campsite, a silver shadow emerging from the darkness of the forest. "I've safeguarded the area," he addressed the chimera busy building a fire, "so we should be able to sleep easy tonight."  
  
Kuronue glanced up from where he knelt, clutching a handful of dry twigs and leaves. "I don't suppose you caught dinner while you were out there as well," he said in lieu of greeting.  
  
The youko grinned and produced a brace of rabbits with a flourish. "Of course. I'm multi-talented you know." He handed his catch over to the winged youkai. "Dinner and breakfast for two."  
  
Kuronue scowled as he took the game. "Multi-talented. Uh huh. How come I end up lighting the fire and cooking dinner?" he grouched.  
  
Kurama smirked. "Because I protected the campsite and caught it. And because you do it so well. Now make us something to eat, wench," he ordered imperiously.  
  
"Kurama, if you don't want to wear this meal," Kuronue growled, "Shut up."  
  
"But honey..." the youko laughed teasingly, but obliged when the chimera waved his sickle at him threateningly.  
  
Later, sleepy and sated from dinner, the two partners relaxed around the fire. Liquid gold stared dreamily into the dancing flames, the youko's thoughts drifting aimlessly. A furry ear twitched occasionally, instinctively seeking out the muted sounds of the night.  
  
Kuronue tilted his head back to rest on the log he reclined against. Above him, the stars twinkled brightly with a cold serene light. The chimera's fingers twitched; the music in his blood called to him strongly this night, urging him to give it expression. He wanted to play.  
  
Reaching into a hidden pocket, the chimera withdrew a set of reed pipes, worn smooth and darkened with age. He ran his fingers lovingly over the lines of the thing, memories stirring as he did so. The instrument fit comfortably in his hands, the familiar feel welcomed as one of the few constants in his life. Lifting the pipes to his lips, Kuronue gave over conscious control and let his soul dictate what his fingers played.  
  
Furred ears perked as the first liquid notes poured from the simple instrument, then relaxed. Slow and haunting, the dark melody spoke of the passage of time and the inevitable loss that accompanied it. Kurama frowned. Utterly depressing. "Kuro," he said, rolling to face the chimera, "can't you play something a little more cheerful?"  
  
Kuronue paused. "Listen," he told Kurama before resuming his melody.  
  
Kurama made an exasperated sound. "I am," he said tartly.  
  
Kuronue shook his head. "No. _Listen_," he instructed.  
  
The youko gave a long-suffering sigh before subsiding back into his former position. The melancholy sound of the pipes threatened to disrupt the light mood he was in, but there was no escaping the sound. The song made him feel old and tired, as if he was weighted down with the wisdom of the ages. It was like he was bearing witness to what had fallen to time. Little by little Kurama drifted off to sleep, the sound of Kuronue's playing surrounding him.

  
Two things hit Kurama's senses at once; the smell of breakfast and the sound of Kuronue's playing. The youko opened his eyes, brushing sleep- mussed bangs out of his face.  
  
A quick glance around the campsite revealed the morning meal warming over the fire. Kuronue sat off to one side of the clearing, his eyes closed as he played his reed pipes. The sun's rays were just beginning to hit the tops of the surrounding trees, lighting the campsite to a comfortable level.  
  
Kurama sat up, pulling his long legs to his chest. Resting his chin on his knees, he allowed his long hair to spill forward, a silvery curtain covering his forearms. Long lashes drifted down to half cover gold irises as Kurama breathed in the crisp morning air, and listened. Really listened.  
  
In the pipes' melody, Kurama heard...life. He heard the slow awakening of the forest as flora and fauna alike stirred from slumber to greet the new day. He could hear the dew already beginning to dry on the blades of grass as the air warmed, and the soft sighing of the breeze as it wove itself between the flowers.  
  
He heard joy.  
  
Shutting his eyes, Kurama tilted his head back and let himself be taken by the music. He soared on the melody as it picked up speed, the lilting notes taking him higher and higher. His soul sang. The trilling notes climbed; jumping, skipping, twirling, rushing towards -  
  
Kurama's head snapped forward, his eyes going wide as the music stopped abruptly, leaving crystal-clear silence in its wake, a perfect moment of clarity. He held his breath, feeling the whole forest hold it with him. The sun peeked over the top of the treeline, and the thread of melody greeted it like a slow exhalation, releasing its hold over the stunned youko.  
  
Kuronue let the last note linger and fade away before opening his laughing cobalt eyes. "Ohayo Kurama."  
  
Kurama smiled. "Ohayo, Kuro."  
  
He'd learned to listen, and had been given the gift of song.

_**My second eyes to see,**   
_  
"Kaasan!" Horrified, Kurama scrambled to his mother's side, his hands half- raised to touch her before he realized what he was doing.  
  
"Shuuichi, d-daijoubu?" Shiori asked weakly, trying to cradle both bloody arms at once. Ignoring the shards of china embedded in her flesh, she checked to see if her son was injured.  
  
"H-hai," Kurama said shakily, unable to tear his gaze away from the trembling ruin of his mother's arms. "Kaasan..."  
  
"Call the ambulance Shuuichi," Shiori told him, trying to smile reassuringly through the pain; her attempts fell woefully short, belied by the ashen hue of her skin and her uncontrollable shaking.  
  
Kurama nodded and ran for the phone. A sick feeling coiled in his stomach as he gave the dispatcher his address. As he hung up, he had to stop and take deep breaths, the nausea growing as the adrenaline rushed through his system. He could feel hysteria creeping in, and he gripped the edge of the table tightly as he concentrated on keeping his composure. The last thing his mother needed was a crying, hyperventilating child to deal with right now.  
  
Swallowing heavily, Kurama went back to the kitchen to help where he could. Kurama curled in a chair next to his mother's hospital bed, staring miserably at the bandages covering her arms. Without having to ask the doctors, he knew that there would be horrendous scarring from the middle of her forearms to the backs of her hands. Kurama bit his lip, trying to still the telltale quiver. His mother had had such beautiful hands...  
  
Hunching into a tighter ball, the young boy bit down harder to stifle the sound of his sobs. His fault, all of it. Shiori would hate him for what he'd done to her. It would be best if he left before she woke; he didn't think he could bear to see the anger and rejection in her eyes or hear it in her voice.  
  
"Shuuichi?"  
  
A gentle hand stroking his bowed head brought Kurama's tearstained face up to meet his mother's concerned gaze. Shiori graced him with her beautiful smile. "Shimpai shinai de (don't worry), Shuu-chan," she assured her son. Her bandaged hand wiped away the tracks of moisture on Kurama's cheeks, pausing as he flinched away from her touch. "Shuu-chan?"  
  
"I-I'm sorry," Kurama sobbed out, instinctively moving closer to Shiori, seeking comfort. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his slight frame shaking with the force of his sobs. Shiori was the one who was hurt, and yet she was still trying to comfort him. It was wrong.  
  
"For what?" His mother's soft query brought startled wet emerald up to meet her dark gaze.  
  
"For - for this," Kurama choked, making an abrupt gesture. "If I hadn't tried to get the plates by myself - "  
  
"Shuuichi," Shiori's firm tone stopped Kurama's further descent into self- loathing. "It was an accident, not your fault." She rested a hand on his head. "Stop blaming yourself. I don't."  
  
Stunned, the young half-youko searched his mother's eyes, finding only love and concern in their dark depths. And for the first time in both his lives, Kurama finally understood a mother's love. "You don't hate me," he breathed wonderingly. Muffling a sob, Kurama crawled onto the bed beside his mother. Snuggling up against her, he burrowed under Shiori's arm, mindful of the tubes attached. And in the safety of his mother's embrace, Kurama let himself be what he was; a scared young boy in need of comfort and reassurance.  
  
_Suki da, kaasan.  
  
Arigatou._

_   
  
__**But oh, it was my third love  
Who gave my soul to me.**   
_  
"Mou yamero (enough)," Kurama panted, wearily lowering his leaf blade so it pointed at the ground. He took deep breaths, trying to regain his wind. Warily, he eyed the shorter figure facing him across the open patch of ground. Damn, was Hiei winded at all?  
  
The fire demon in question blurred out of sight only to reappear directly before the tired youko. "Hn," was his only response. Kurama was pleased to note that the stoic youkai was breathing faster than normal; maybe his skills with a blade weren't too rusty after all.  
  
"See?" he said. "I can still use - itai!" he yelped, rubbing his hand and glaring at his friend. "What did you do that for?" The slap from Hiei's sword had stung; already the skin was turning an angry red. It hadn't been a lovetap.  
  
Hiei gave him his infuriating little smirk. "You're out of practice, fox. What'd happen if you were forced to use a sword?" So saying, the fire demon lunged, his blade at ready.  
  
Caught off guard, Kurama was forced on the defensive as he dodged and parried, only just able to keep up with Hiei's lightning-quick moves. "K'so - yamero, Hiei!"  
  
"Dame." (No.)  
  
"Hiei!"  
  
"Dame."  
  
"Yamero Hiei or I'll -!" Kurama's threat was cut off as Hiei suddenly swept his legs out from under him. The youko landed in an ungraceful heap, crimson locks fanning out like a bloody curtain. Hiei quickly straddled his hips, using his legs to pin Kurama's arms firmly to his sides. Calmly, the fire youkai brought the edge of his sword to rest against the youko's neck. "Sloppy, Kurama," he stated.  
  
Kurama glared up into the - dare he say it - amused ruby gaze holding his own. "Yeah well, if you'll recall, this isn't my weapon of choice. I - "  
  
"How long?" Hiei asked abruptly.  
  
"N-nani?" Kurama stuttered, off balance.  
  
"I said, how long?" Hiei repeated patiently, his tone casual.  
  
"I - err..." Somehow, Kurama got the feeling that they were now discussing a totally different subject. "Huh?" he asked intelligently.  
  
There was an amused quirk to his lips as Hiei bent towards Kurama. His words were a tickle of breath on the youko's cheek. "How long have you been in love with me?"  
  
Kurama froze.  
  
Hiei sat back and watched the play of emotions across the redhead's features, his smirk widening; it wasn't often that Kurama was taken by surprise, and right now the youko was doing a credible imitation of a landed fish.  
  
"Y-you knew?!" Kurama stammered, aghast.  
  
Hiei looked insulted. "Give me some credit kitsune," he said dryly.  
  
"You knew..." Kurama repeated dazedly, his eyes blank with shock.  
  
"Sou." Hiei nodded.  
  
"Chotto matte. You knew - and you didn't tell me?!" Kurama was starting to get mad as the information registered. "Why didn't you SAY anything?!" he demanded furiously as he struggled to free himself from under Hiei. The fire demon smirked, riding the kitsune and letting him tire himself out. Exhausted, Kurama finally went limp, having to content himself with glaring daggers at the infuriating object of his affections, the little bastard that he was. The damn fire demon could've saved him a whole lot of grief.  
  
Hiei shrugged. "Hn. When were you going to tell me?" he countered, answering Kurama's indignant question with one of his own.  
  
Kurama could feel a faint blush creeping over his cheeks as he scrambled to find a plausible excuse. "..."  
  
Hiei leaned forward, resting his arms on the redhead's chest. He bit at Kurama's neck lightly, his fangs grazing the sensitive cluster of nerves at the base of the kitsune's throat. "You know," he murmured, "if you had said something earlier you'd have spared yourself a lot of grief." His words echoed Kurama's thoughts of a few moments ago.  
  
"So why did you decide to do something now?" Kurama gasped out, his eyes fluttering shut as the fire demon nibbled. Inari but he loved those fangs...  
  
Hiei brushed his lips against Kurama's in a feather-light kiss. "I got tired of waiting."  
  
Kurama gaped at his beloved, the-person-he-most-wanted-to-choke-the-living-daylights-out-of. "You got tired of waiting," he repeated.  
  
"Sou," Hiei confirmed, nibbling at an ear.  
  
"Hiei, has anyone gasp ever told you you can be incredibly gasp irritating?"  
  
"Frequently."  
  
"And do you realize just how close - ohhh...I am to - umm...strangling you?"  
  
"Uh huh." Hiei returned to Kurama's lips, kissing him deeply. "Do you want me to stop?"  
  
Kurama's glare could have stopped the Kokuryuuha in its tracks. "Stop now and I'll kill you."  
  
Hiei obliged and kissed him again before pulling back once more. Kurama growled in frustration. "I do too," Hiei informed him. At Kurama's blank look he elaborated, "Feel the same way."  
  
Kurama stared up at the fire demon, his eyes wide and suddenly very vulnerable. With a quick burst of unexpected strength, he freed his arms from under Hiei. Reaching up, he yanked Hiei's face down to his and put his soul into the kiss. Hiei hadn't exactly said the words, but it was enough.  
  
_Aishiteru, Hiei.  
  
Itsudemo eien ni.__   
  
_**Owari **

_Itsudemo eien ni_ - Always and forever

**Author's Notes** 1)My, it certainly took a long time to finish this one. Much thanks to my proofer Amy ::hugs::, who was kind enough to read this even though she was getting swamped by RL, and for listening to my occasional rant or three. 2)I just wanted to put in a little something about the second Kuro/Kurama scene. Once long ago at a Youth Symphony concert, one of my friends had shut his eyes; he was visualizing with the music, he said. For some reason that memory stayed with me. I also saw Fantasia 2000 while finishing this fic, and decided to combine it with the memory. It's a wonderful feeling when you can lose yourself in music, whether you're playing or listening to it.


End file.
